


The Art of Wool

by Hijja



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-25 21:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hijja/pseuds/Hijja
Summary: A house-elf fairy tale...





	The Art of Wool

**Author's Note:**

> Written in May 2004.
> 
> After running from fluff like a vampire from sunlight, I was curious to see whether I could produce a mindless piece of fluff myself. First posted under an alias on ff.net because I was ashamed of it :).

Once upon a time, long before our parents' parents were born, when Muggles and wizards still lived in fear of each other and our ancestors were still bound to serve wizarding houses for good or ill, there lived a young girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was a wise, kind young witch, but from very low descent, for her parents had been born without magic. She had a loyal companion, a young man of Magical Blood, although his family was poor, and it grieved him. And yet, they both served the Lion House at Hogwarts, where the bravest of young witches and wizards resided, and they were happy there.

The young girl was beloved of every kind of magical creature - Kneazles slept in her lap, Hippogriffs and Thestrals would allow her to ride on their backs, and when once she crossed the path of a Basilisk, even that most terrible of serpents softened its gaze so she would only sink into a deep sleep after looking into its eyes, and not turn to stone and die.

Above all else, however, the young witch loved elfkind. She would watch our ancestors toil endlessly, without respite or gratitude from most, and often even cast out or murdered when they became too old to serve. She had a kind heart, and this saddened her, and her young companion mourned seeing her sadness. Since she was as yet only a girl and could not fight for the freedom of our kind, she took to knitting, knowing as very few did then the happiness that clothes bring us. But she was a witch, unused to manual labour, and the Art of Wool only came to her slowly, and with difficulty.

So it came to pass that the young girl's best friend among the house-elves of Hogwarts Castle, the first - though not the last - to be working there a free elf liberated from cruel servitude by a young hero's kindness, felt the fourth anniversary of his Day of Freedom approaching, and the young witch decided to knit for him an ornate pair of socks, the symbols by which he had achieved his liberty. She worked hard at her task, and when the evening before her friend's Day of Freedom came round, she had finished knitting her pair of socks, but was determined to use the rest of the night and her skills of magic to embroider them and turn them into a proper shape.

There was, however, at Hogwarts a young sorcerer of the Serpent House, who watched the young witch and her friends with utmost loathing, for he looked down on those who were poor and of no wizarding blood. Moreover, he was the son of a Dark sorcerer who had committed many acts of outrage against those of humble origin. He had heard of the young witch's intent to gift her friend, and, being malicious of nature, intended to thwart her. Not only did he hold a grudge against the young witch, for she had often bested him in feats of magic, but his was also the wizarding family from whose oppression her house-elf friend had been liberated. Hence he sought to humble both.

When the witches and wizards of Hogwarts sat down to their evening meal that night, the young witch's enemy therefore plotted in whispers with those of the Serpent House who shared his confidence. When the young people left the hall after their feast, two of the Serpent wizard's entourage accosted the young Lion witch and her friends, throwing to the ground their books and possessions. In the tumult that followed - for the young witch was cherished by her House and many came to intercede for her - an unobserved hand stole the knitted socks from her bag.

Only later, in the safety of the Lion Tower, did the young witch find her work missing. She lamented most pitifully having lost her gift for her friend, and searched for the lost socks all over the Lion Tower, and even approached the witches and wizards of the Badger and the Raven House, who were amicable to the Lions. But - not knowing what evil scheme was afoot against her - she could not find them, and retreated to her chamber in tears.

It happened, however, that the young witch's companion was an initiate of the arcane wizarding art of Quidditch, and he spent said evening in rehearsal for the Rite of Quidditch that was to take place on the morrow between the Lion and Serpent House.

They flew their brooms, batted and threw their balls for over an hour, until they felt prepared for the morning's battle. Even after his companions had already returned to the Lion Tower, the young Lion wizard still lingered to observe the initiates of the Serpent House at their own rehearsal. For the Quidditch initiates of the Serpent House were infamous for hatching unlawful plots to grant them leverage with their rivals at the Rite.

So the young wizard observed them from a secluded spot, watched them flying to and fro on their brooms, and his ears burned from the gibes he heard thrown at the Quidditch prowess of the Lion House, and from the fell ploys by with they planned to win their advantage in the morning.

At last the Serpent wizards too abandoned their rehearsal, for night was falling fast, and finally only the enemy of the young witch and her house-elf friend remained with two of his most intimate accomplices.

With horror and rage, the young Lion Wizard watched as his enemy ordered them to gather round him, and then pulled from his robes the pair of socks his friend had so laboriously worked on for many nights. Trembling with anger, the young wizard heard them disparage and mock her work, and then plot to tie the unfinished socks to the highest hoop of the Quidditch field, for all to see in the morning. They conspired to attach them there together with a Magnifying Charm and a banner mocking the young witch's imperfect work and her lack of wizarding pride for choosing a house-elf for a friend.

So the Serpent Wizards rose into the air on their brooms with the socks, and flew upwards, and further up still, to affix the socks to the top hoop. For such was the skill of the initiates of Quidditch that they would dare to fly into heights that would send one of our own kind into a dead faint from fright.

The young Lion wizard, fearing that if once the socks were magicked to the hoops they could not be removed, grabbed the broom he was still carrying in his hand, and boldly sped after them.

It was already quite dark, so he managed to pursue the Serpent Wizards far up without being discovered. He came up to them as they were hovering at the very top of the field, jeering and chortling over their booty. The young wizard directed his broom right towards his enemies, and - hair and eyes blazing - confronted their leader, who in his hand held the socks. The Serpent Wizard screamed in surprise and fear at being so suddenly attacked, and the young Lion wizard pulled the socks right out of his grasp before directing his broom back towards the ground, plummeting like a hunting bird.

Curses and hexes from the Serpent Wizards' wands followed his flight, but he sped away so quickly that none of them came even near its mark. The Serpent Wizards pursued the young Lion wizard on their brooms, intent on doing him grievous harm should they capture him.

But the young wizard, having made the most of his moment of surprise, landed his broom at the outer wall of the Castle of Hogwarts when they still hurtled through the air above. He jumped off his broom, holding onto the socks tightly, and raced into the castle. He was as yet a young wizard and unable to Vanish himself under his own power as one of our kind would have been able to do. So he ran through hallways and corridors, up and down staircases, pursued closely by his enemies. They sped after him with angry shouts, but he reached the safety of his Tower a few steps ahead, and into the Lion's Den they dared not follow.

As the young Lion Wizard collapsed inside the painted doors, dizzy with exhaustion and excitement, the young witch saw her friend, and the socks in his hand, and gave a loud cry of happiness and surprise. She rushed to his side to make sure he was unharmed, but found nothing but the high colour of exertion in his face, as it happens with human beings, wizard and Muggle alike.

The young wizard handed her the socks with a smile, and she threw her arms around his neck, which human beings do instead of petting each other's ears when they are glad.

Then the young wizard settled down in front of the fireplace of the Lion Tower, in the midst of his fellow Lions, and told his tale. His housemates hissed when they heard about the ruses the Serpent Wizards were planning for the Rite of Quidditch, and erupted in anger when they heard about the conspiracy to expose the young woman and her house-elf friend to public mockery. When the young wizard came to relate his flight and how he had rescued the socks from the very hand of his enemy, the young witch slipped her hand into his and held it tightly for the rest of the story. That made the young wizard go red about the ears as well, as it happens to humans, wizards as Muggles alike, when their hearts warm.

At the end, the girl thanked her friend once more and quickly kissed his cheek before she attended to the task of ornamenting the socks for her friend's Day of Freedom. The most skilled witches and wizards of the Lion Tower aided her in this task, and legend has it that they produced the most regal pair of socks a house-elf had ever been gifted with that night, as a tribute to bravery, and freedom.

Of course the young woman would grow up to become the liberator of elfkind, just like her companion would become the right hand of the Boy Who Lived, who was destined to be the liberator of wizardkind, but those are different, darker tales for more serious occasions. But it is said that from the memory of this day, when a young wizard braved danger for love and a young witch braved ridicule for friendship, our kind has taken a custom: to celebrate our Days of Freedom, we give our loved ones socks.

~~~ finis ~~~


End file.
